


Pleasant is the Memory of Past Troubles

by TheSecretUchiha



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Amnesia, But he tries to be happy for Yuuri, I'm Sorry, M/M, Makkachin does what he can, Schmoop, Temporary Amnesia, Victor Is Sad, but also a bit of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-20
Updated: 2017-01-20
Packaged: 2018-09-18 19:04:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9398771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSecretUchiha/pseuds/TheSecretUchiha
Summary: Yuuri falls and he hits his head. He hits his head hard and all his memories of the past year fall out and slip away on the ice.(Aka the amnesia fic nobody asked for)~~~“Where’s Vicchan?” he demands and Viktor’s breath catches in his throat because surely Yuuri knows… how could he forget that Vicchan... But the panic in his voice and in his eyes is real and the words quiver and shake as he asks again.“Where’s Vicchan? Where is he? Why is there a ring on my hand? And why are you in Hasetsu? What’s going on?!”Viktor’s heart freezes, and he thinks absently that losing his skating inspiration doesn’t compare even slightly to the pain he feels at Yuuri’s questions. Losing his skating inspiration doesn't compare at all to losing Yuuri.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote a fanfic today and posted it. As soon as I did I got this idea suddenly. I've barely dipped my toes into the fanfic for this fandom so I'm sure there's probably a few good amnesia fics out there with a similar plot, but I hope you enjoy this one too!
> 
> Note - The medical responses to the issues in this fic are, I am sure, extremely inaccurate, as I have as little knowledge on medical treatment as I do on figure skating.

Yuuri wakes up to someone screaming his name in panic. The floor he is on is cold… and wet… and oh, he’s definitely at the rink, not in his room in Detroit. His head hurts quite a lot, and for a moment all he wants to do is groan in pain, especially when his name is shouted again, much closer this time, sending a sharp stabbing feeling through his head.

Warm hands touch his shoulder and side, and, more gently than he expects, roll him over to face the ceiling, the arms wrapping around his shoulders to hold his head and torso off the cold ice. 

His vision remains blurred for a few seconds, and whatever words the person holding him is saying sounds like gobbledygook. 

He feels a hand tenderly stroke the side of his face before carefully pressing against his forehead where the pain feels worst and he can’t help but flinch away.

“Sorry,” the person whispers in accented Japanese as his vision starts to return to normal.

One of the lights on the roof is directly behind the man’s head, and it takes several blinks before his eyes manage to adjust to the bright light. Then his breath catches in his throat, his eyes widen and his whole body jerks in shock.

Above him, mouth pinched and eyes staring intently back at him, is Viktor Nikiforov.

Panic seeps into his bones, and he tries to lurch backwards, away from the god of skating but his hand slips on the ice, unbalancing Viktor, leaving both of them sprawled back on the ice, Viktor braced by an arm on either side of Yuuri’s head.

“Yuuri, are you ok? We need to get you to a doctor!”

The concern in Viktor’s voice is overwhelming, though he’s more confused by the familiarity in it, as well as the tender touches Viktor continues now. 

He tries to stutter an answer, but nothing gets past his lips beyond a painful wheeze that makes him realise he hasn’t been breathing for the past few seconds and the pain in his head is getting worse.

Viktor asks him something again, but for some reason his words don’t make sense once again, and soon Yuuri starts to see stars around the Russian’s face. He didn’t know Viktor really was an angel, he’s sparkling so much...

He detachedly notices that a hand is reaching up to touch Viktor’s face and it takes him a moment to realise it’s attached to his body. 

“Viktor?” He giggles in surprise until blackness starts to creep into his vision and then he slumps back once more.

. . .

Yuuri wakes up again. To be fair, he doesn’t remember the first time very well but this already feels much better. His head doesn’t hurt as much and this time he’s warm and cosy, possibly he’s sleeping in a marshmallow, or in Vicchan’s fur.

His eyes start to crack open, fighting against the grit holding them closed, as his brain starts to kick in to tell him Vicchan isn’t big enough for him to sleep in his fur.

His eyes open and he looks around the room.

It’s, well. It’s familiar, but it’s also strange. This is definitely one of the rooms at the onsen, but it’s not **his** room, even though the pictures of Viktor might suggest otherwise. More confusing, however, are the posters of, surprisingly, him, on the walls as well. For every poster of Viktor there is a poster with himself too, posters which he thinks is particularly strange because he should have noticed if he posed for them. But people are awfully good at photoshop now, so maybe someone photoshopped them. For some reason. Fans are strange. 

He looks around again, and other than the large posters on the wall there are also a few photographs around the room. The closest one sits on the bedside table beside him, and he throws a hand out haphazardly to pick it up and hold it somewhere he can see it better.

The photo has him in it. It has Viktor in it too, and Vicchan. And it’s taken at the beach in Hasetsu. But Viktor’s never been to Hasetsu before. Maybe the one photoshopping pictures of him was him? Maybe he forgot that he photoshopped pictures of himself with Viktor and Vicchan. Though why would he forget that?

He rolls over, deciding that the thoughts are too confusing.

Vicchan is beside him on the bed, watching him wake up, and, when Yuuri turns to look at him, gives him a big lick across the face. Yuuri reaches out again, this time to pet Vicchan’s head, cause Vicchan is most definitely a good boy. He smiles sloppily at the dog who pushes his head into his hand and that’s the moment Yuuri notices two things.

The first, there’s a gold ring on his ring finger.

The second, the dog is not Vicchan.

He thinks he has his priorities straight when he decides the second problem is much more important than the first because if that’s not Vicchan then who is it? Where is Vicchan? And why is there another adorable poodle in bed with him?

. . .

Viktor felt his heart stop when Yuuri fell out of the quad, which he now had few problems with, and his head cracked into the ground with a smack that even he could hear from the side of the rink.

He raced over, pulling Yuuri up into his arms and going to press gently at the cut on his forehead as Yuuri’s eyes start to open. He’s been speaking non-stop since Yuuri fell but he pauses when Yuuri flinches away from his hand, and offers a quick apology for the pain.

There’s something obviously wrong when Yuuri’s gaze remains vacant, staring at him with vague confusion on his face. Finally some sort of comprehension occurs, and a very small “oh” makes its way past his lips. Viktor smiles in, what he hopes is a reassuring manner, and Yuuri just stares for several more seconds before suddenly jerking backwards and slipping back onto the ice. Viktor goes with him, and for several seconds Viktor panics again, words falling from his lips before he pulls himself together. None of the words he says seems to be getting through to Yuuri though, who doesn’t react to anything Viktor says. But after a few seconds he manages to lift a hand up slowly, pressing it against Viktor’s cheek and he forces himself not to flinch at the cold.

Yuuri says his name, with what almost sounds like wonder, then giggles to himself, and Viktor’s concern doubles and then multiplies exponentially when Yuuri blacks out again.

Getting them both off the ice, with one injured, unconscious skater and one completely panicked but trying not to show it coach wasn’t easy, but thankfully Yuuko met him at the edge of the rink, having heard his shouts and, between them, they get Yuuri into the changing room and call a local doctor.

The doctor gives him a thorough check up, and carefully wraps the wound but, in their small town, there isn’t the equipment readily available, and as Yuuri had been conscious and faintly lucid or at least able to identify the people around him, it is decided to leave any further treatment until Yuuri is conscious again and able to respond to questions.

An hour later, Viktor carries the still unconscious Yuuri into their room, placing him carefully on the bed, and petting Makkachin’s head as the dog jumps onto the bed and curls up against Yuuri’s side as if to protect him from anything that might happen.

“You keep him safe for me while I go make some soup, ok Makkachin?” Viktor asks and the dog yips softly in agreement before laying his head down to watch Yuuri.

Viktor didn’t expect Yuuri to wake up in the minutes he is away but he is overjoyed to see him petting Makkachin gently when he returns, the gold ring on his finger glinting pleasantly in the warm light.

Of course then Yuuri freezes, staring at the dog he’s petting for several empty seconds before sitting up sharply and looking around, a desperate panic in his eyes.

Viktor takes a step into the room and Yuuri’s eyes lock on him and Viktor is terrified. Terrified and heartbroken to see Yuuri look so lost and scared.

“Where’s Vicchan?” he demands and Viktor’s breath catches in his throat because surely Yuuri knows… how could he forget that Vicchan... But the panic in his voice and in his eyes is real and the words quiver and shake as he asks again.

“Where’s Vicchan? Where is he? Why is there a ring on my hand? And why are you in Hasetsu? What’s going on?!”

Viktor’s heart freezes, and he thinks absently that losing his skating inspiration doesn’t compare even slightly to the pain he feels at Yuuri’s questions. To look at Yuuri and not see in his eyes the memories of all the moments they’ve shared together. To look in his eyes and wonder if he's lost Yuuri.


	2. Chapter 2

The doctor is back that night but everyone already knows most of what he will say.

Yuuri has amnesia. 

The last thing he remembers is preparing for the Sochi Grand Prix in several weeks. He’s lost over a year of memories.

The only question is whether it would be permanent or if his memories would return with time. Viktor is already planning for either case. He knows for sure he can woo Yuuri once more, can teach him everything he knows again, can share with him all the moments he’s forgotten.

However the doctor reassures him that such cases are extremely rare, and that the bang to the head was sharp, but not too bad and with any luck Yuuri’s memories will return in a few days.

It’s a week later and he is still waiting. 

Yuuri is painfully shy, even more so than the first time, in Viktor’s memories, that they met and grew together. This time Yuuri keeps his distance from him, he makes sure they’re never alone together and that Viktor’s touches never last too long.

The doctor advised that they try to do things Yuuri is familiar with, but with him acting like a frightened rabbit, it’s harder than expected.

Yuuri moved back to his childhood room that night after he woke up. Viktor tried not to let it bother him, he understood, really he did, and he tried to make sure Yuuri knew that too. Didn’t mean his heart didn’t fracture slightly knowing his fiancé was too scared to sleep in the same room with him.

He felt pitiful for the thoughts, when he went to check on Yuuri before they both retired to bed only to hear choked sobs from the room that held Vicchan’s shrine. 

Mari had been the one to tell him that Vicchan had died a year ago when Yuuri refused to calm down until someone told him the truth. Yuuri had been devastated by the news, and Viktor really understood, finally, just why Yuuri’s first Grand Prix had gone the way it did.

He stood outside the door, not wanting to disturb Yuuri’s grief since his presence seemed to cause Yuuri more problems than aid, when Makkachin padded gently along the corridor and pawed gently at the sliding door. 

As quietly as possible, Viktor pulled the door open. He knew it wasn’t quiet enough when the sobs suddenly stopped and he got a glimpse of Yuuri’s stiff frame. 

Makkachin wandered quickly over to Yuuri’s side and Viktor pulled the door closed again, walking away as Yuuri’s sobs began again more vigorously than before.

It has been a week since then, and the attitude in the house iss still somber. The Katsuki family is trying everything it can to prompt Yuuri’s memories and make him happy again, but the Japanese skater seems to be holding himself slightly away from everyone.

Viktor himself is trying not to let the mood get to him, but sleeping in a bed bereft of both Yuuri and Makkachin, who is sticking close to the amnesiac man, had left him sleeping fitfully.

He wakes that day though, with the light shining on the bed and a gentle breeze creeping through the half opened window carrying the smell wet grass and Spring.

After the last few days of Spring showers, the sun is a nice surprise and Viktor sits up with a stretch and a smile on his face. There was no use letting the situation get him down. He decided before that he would do whatever it takes for Yuuri, even if that meant starting over and he hasn’t been doing a good job of showing that so far. What would his-Yuuri think? No, he shouldn’t think that, this-Yuuri **is** his-Yuuri, no matter how different they might seem, and thinking of them as separate people won’t help the situation at all. 

He reaches for his phone to check the time only to find a few messages from Chris.

_“Any luck so far?”_

_“Adorable katsudon bowl will remember soon, I know it”_

_“You could always show him your d*** to remind him…”_

_“Or your ass. It is a very fine ass indeed.”_

_“Mission make cutie patootie remember the bootie starts now! ;)”_

Viktor smiles and shoots off a quick reply before jumping out of bed.

It’s still early, probably another hour or so before Yuuri wakes up, and Viktor has Plans for today.

. . .

Vicchan is dead and how could that be possible? Why is his beloved dog dead? It was a few days before he got passed that news, though having Viktor’s dog staying by his side helps a lot. Makkachin, he knows the dog is called, though it’s a bit of effort to stop thinking Vicchan instead.

Slowly, it sinks in.

He tries to focus on other things, on his family, on… Viktor.

They are all trying to help, and he loves his family for everything they give him, even now. And he… he is thankful for Viktor too but the knowledge that his idol, his apparent **FIANCE** , is there for him is also a lot to get his head around.

Still, he tries to observe the man when he can. He is as beautiful as ever but, right now, he also looks tired. He looks tired and sad and that’s not at all how he looked when Yuuri first woke up and thought he was an angel. Then he had looked worried, there was even fear in his eyes, but he didn’t have the deep bags under his eyes from lack of sleep, and the stress wrinkles that have appeared in the last few days.

Viktor is sad, even though he tries not to let Yuuri see, and Yuuri feels sad that he has made Viktor sad. Viktor that, for some reason, cares for him so much, and is doing everything he can to make things better even though Yuuri can see every time he steps away from Viktor’s touch because of his nerves the Russian’s heart breaks a bit more.

That’s why it is a surprise, that morning, to go down to eat breakfast and find, not only Viktor smiling brightly without a hint of despair on his face, but also the largest bouquet of roses he’s ever set his eyes on.

“Whut?”

“They’re for you!” Viktor exclaims as if shoving them into Yuuri’s arms doesn’t make that clear.

Yuuri blushes a bit and tries to stutter out a response. It’s strange, Viktor can be so much more… childish, than he’d ever imagined. But it’s nice too. It’s more than nice, it’s amazing, incredible, overwhelming, to see a true side to Viktor that he’s never seen before and know that he sees this because, well, because Viktor wants him to know him completely.

He manages to mumble a thank you, hiding his face behind the roses on the pretence of admiring them.

He takes a seat at the table and instantly Viktor is rushing about, serving his breakfast for him, asking him what he wants to drink, how he slept, how he feels today…

It’s overwhelming but, it’s also nice. Viktor seems to have come to terms with everything about the situation because the lingering sadness that had hovered around him for the past week seems to have been pushed to the side. He doesn’t try to touch Yuuri, not even a pat on the shoulder or ruffle of his hair, but the warmth in the smiles Viktor aims at him make Yuuri feel warmer than any hug ever could.

Viktor tells him when he finishes that they’re going out that day. Yuuri wants to object but before he can the Russian skater mentions that Makkachin really needs some exercise and how can Yuuri say no to that?

So they end up walking slowly into the town and down to the beach. Makkachin rushes into the surf and Viktor convinces him to slip off his shoes and join in a game of chase with the two of them. By the time they finish, Yuuri is covered in sand and his shirt is more than a little wet, with sandy paw prints from where Makkachin had jumped on him in excitement. He’s exhausted and happier than he’s been in the last week, and when Viktor smiles at him with the look in his eyes that Yuuri normally tries to ignore, he just smiles right back. 

They dry off with the towels Viktor brought, and even a change of shirts, before they head back into town. Victor insists they stop at a café that Yuuri, honestly, has no memory of ever visiting in his whole life living in Hasetsu. Viktor tells him that they’d just discovered it recently, and that they’d been coming here to plan out new routines for the coming season. The waitress sure seems to recognise them and brings them their drinks without any prompting. It’s nice. The coffee is good and the place has a homely feel that Yuuri really appreciates.

Finally Viktor informs him they’re going to the ice rink to practise. Yuuri wants to remind him that he doesn’t know any of his current performances, and he doesn’t want to remind anyone that he doubts he could do them even if he could. But Viktor is smiling at him and maybe his heart beats a bit faster and he decides to trust that Viktor knows what he’s doing.

The ice palace is just as he remembers it from when he woke up briefly, and just the same as he remembers from a year ago though there are a few pictures of him in the reception area that make him flush with embarrassment.

They get ready in a comfortable silence, and make their way onto the ice. Yuuri watches Viktor set up his music system at the edge of the rink and take the remote with him as he skates towards the centre of the ice. Yuuri hovers hesitantly at the edge but Viktor crooks a finger at him, beckoning him closer.

Viktor gives him a warm smile and asks “Do you trust me?” and Yuuri wonders how he can say it while pretending he isn’t terrified of the answer.

Yuuri hesitates for a second, but this is the man he is engaged to, the man his family welcomes into their home, the man who looks at him as if he will give Yuuri the world if possible, or at the very least ensure he takes gold at the World Championship. But most of all, Yuuri knows that this man, somehow, is the one he has fallen in love with, and he wants to do it again, he wants to know what he felt as he fell in love and what he lost when he fell on the ice.

He nods.

Viktor presses play on the remote, tucks it into a pocket and takes Yuuri’s hand as the music starts. 

Stammi Vicino. Viktor’s free skate program. But rewritten for two people.

Viktor whispers instructions in his ear as they move together. He tells him when to jump and when to spin and when to just let himself follow. He misses a lot of the step sequences, just gliding alongside Viktor as he finishes them, but the more he watches Viktor going through the motions, the more they start to feel… familiar. 

Like a distant memory of a long forgotten friend who you’re meeting again for the first time in years. He joins Viktor again for joint spins and a jump and then Viktor starts another step sequence, even harder than the last. 

But this time, Yuuri’s feet follow along. They match the motions of Viktor’s and he finds his hands falling into place too, stretching his arms out in sweeping arcs and then grasping Viktor’s hands in his, their bodies pressed together in a tight spin for a second before he curves his body backwards into a dip that Viktor is already ready for.

The motions flow out of him, his mind not even thinking of what he’s doing and with each step he makes a memory falls back into place, starting with this very performance at his last Grand Prix Final.

He remembers being given the silver medal currently on display in their shared bedroom; exchanging rings with Viktor; watching Yurio perform his short program and Yuuri’s own failings that day. Memories of normal days training with Viktor, of running with Makkachin, of spending time with Phichett at competitions. His eyes start to tear up as he remembers the Cup of China and Viktor’s surprise kiss. So many memories of time spent with Viktor until he remembers running through the onsen, of Viktor standing naked in the bath, declaring himself Yuuri’s coach.

And finally he remembers standing on the ice for his first Grand Prix in Sochi, the one he still felt he was waiting for even though it was now over a year ago. He remembers the loneliness in that Yuuri, the sadness and depression and heartbreak he had felt. And he wishes he could show himself just what he had coming, what he had to look forward to, and then wonders if he just did. Past Yuuri slips away as the music does and Yuuri finds himself wrapped up in Viktor’s arms and forget what he said that morning, nothing will ever compare to the safety and love he feels being held in Viktor’s arms like this.

. . .

The last few notes of the music fade into the echoing silence of the empty rink and Viktor keeps hold of Yuuri, pressing his face into the smaller skater’s hair. He doesn’t want to back away, he wants to stay here forever, in this perfect moment with Yuuri in his arms and just remember what this song means to them, what it will mean to Yuuri in the future if Viktor has any say in it.

Yuuri moves though, and with much reluctance Viktor allows him to pull away slightly, just enough so that they can look each other in the eyes.

He feels fragile right now, more exposed than ever after sharing his heart with Yuuri, not expecting it to be returned. He feels so fragile that it takes him a moment to realise Yuuri’s eyes are full of tears, his face is flushed and he’s smiling beatifically back at Viktor.

“Viktor,” Yuuri says, and it’s almost a purr, the way the words pass through his lips with such warmth, such love, in a way that makes Viktor’s heart lodge in his throat because he doesn’t want to hope but that voice can’t be a lie, can’t be anything but the truth.

Yuuri pauses, then shakes his head and laughs gently.

“Vitya,” he says this time and the tears are falling down his cheeks and he’s laughing again, laughing so much that he curls over as if to grasp at his stomach and instead he just falls into Viktor’s arms.

“Vitya,” he says one more time as he looks up at Viktor’s face with the most lovestruck and adoring expression Viktor can remember, “How could I ever forget you?”

Viktor doesn’t care about answering, it doesn’t matter that Yuuri forgot, it doesn’t matter it’s been more than a week of anxiety and stress and loneliness, trying to hold strong to the hope that things will get better again. And so Viktor tells him.

“It doesn’t matter, Yuuri, it doesn’t matter at all, because you’re my love and I’ll never let you go!”

There’s a celebration that night, with the Katsuki family, and the Nishigoris and Minako and all the regulars of the onsen. Viktor and Yuuri eat katsudon and drink with their friends and family, and reply to all the messages their fellow skaters send, but they make their excuses early. They go up to their room together, and climb into the bed and hold each other, with Makkachin lying over their knees and it should be uncomfortable but it’s not, because all three of them are there. The three of them are together again, and they’re happy, and that’s all that matters.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went super light on the angst (I think) cause I just wanted to get to everything being happy again. I'm not good at long fics but I hope you enjoyed this.
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> I'll try and post the second part soon! Thank you for reading!


End file.
